XXXVIII.

I worked for chaff, and earning wheat Was haughty and betrayed. What right had fields to arbitrate In matters ratified?

I tasted wheat, -- and hated chaff, And thanked the ample friend; Wisdom is more becoming viewed At distance than at hand.

Life, and Death, and Giants Such as these, are still. Minor apparatus, hopper of the mill, Beetle at the candle, Or a fife's small fame, Maintain by accident That they proclaim.